


Madame President

by HeartHarps



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, F/F, Plot that's sort of fluffy and angsty, Smut, cis women au, they're like early mid forties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17085998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartHarps/pseuds/HeartHarps
Summary: President, Katya had said to her once, so quiet and so close as they’d sat with their stocking feet up on the couch. The fireplace had been crackling and they'd been drinking wine in the living room of the California Governor’s Mansion. Trixie had waited for a second, unsure what to say or if she could even talk anymore, her throat had gotten so dry with the merlot. When Katya had saidPresident, Trixie couldn't believe it and had decided it made perfect sense at the same time. She hated, to that day, that she had waited even a second to tell her friend she was going to be the best president their country had ever seen.





	Madame President

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I just wrote this. I’m not American, I don’t live in America, but here it is anyways. This is a joke that I put way too much thought into! This is not realistic. Please don’t take it seriously with regards to politics or anything. There's one specific tumblr post that I stole the plot from, plus a bunch of other stuff that inspired and informed this, all listed [here](http://heartharps.tumblr.com/post/181281278248/notes-madame-president).  
> Trixie and Katya are both politicians who’ve worked in state legislature and congress together in the past. They’ve stayed friends over the years even though they keep moving back and forth between DC and California. Trixie is a senator and Katya is the Governor of California.  
> Enjoy the show!

“Hey Ka—”

“ _Hiiieeee_ ,” The voice on the other side of the phone said, as soon as Trixie answered.

Trixie frowned, leaning back from the desk in her home office. She quickly looked at her phone to check the number. It was saved as _Katya Office_ , and she suddenly remembered that even though Katya had been the only one to call Trixie from the headquarters of the Zamolodchikova 2024 presidential campaign, Alaska the campaign manager extraordinaire would also have it. “Alaska?” Trixie asked into the receiver, even though she already knew the answer. Her brain was moving on to being confused as to why anyone would be calling her from that office. With Katya about to be officially announced as the Democratic nominee for the President of the United States, her friend had barely found time to answer Trixie’s congratulatory phone call. Alaska especially should be running around like crazy.

“ _Trixie darling, how are you tonight?_ ” Alaska crooned as Trixie shut her laptop slowly.

“I'm good, thanks,” She answered automatically. She was still in work-mode, still wearing the tweed skirt and jacket in the inoffensive deep magenta, and her comfy heels, even though the work day was long over.

Alaska said, “ _That’s good_.” She paused and there was a door-shutting sound in the background, making Trixie wonder if she was in Katya’s office. If Katya was there. If she could talk to Katya. Trixie always wanted to talk to Katya, in general, but also then specifically, because she didn’t know what was going on.

“How’s everything going over there? I’m sure you guys are like, swamped,” Trixie said, spinning the ring on her free hand around with her thumb.

Alaska hummed into the phone. “ _Real good, we're getting real excited for Friday._ ”

Images of a huge red and blue stage flashed in Trixie's mind, memories of bright lights and big crowds, knowing that Katya would be the center of it all that Friday, to begin actually running for president, and to announce who going to run with her as VP. Trixie was getting excited for her too. “Yeah,” She said.

“ _Well_ ,” Alaska started, “ _I just wanted to call because Katya_ finally _told me who she wants as her running mate_.”

Trixie's head was starting to hurt; she still had no idea what any of this had to do with _her_. She pushed her stiff curls out of her face and dug the pad of her thumb into her ring, sharp edges biting mercilessly. “Uh, what does Tammie Brown have to do with me?” Trixie asked.

“ _Uh—_ ” Alaska cut the sound off quickly, and then something rustled against the receiver.

Trixie scoffed a little to herself. “Alaska, can I talk to Katya?” She asked, unsure if she could be heard. Trixie waited, trying to discern the muffled voices on the other end of the line. _What game is Alaska playing? Have they not confirmed with Tammie yet?_

There was a crackle and then Alaska said, “ _Come on, Trixie. What do you say?_ ”

Trixie felt her pulse pounding in her head and her thumb. “What?”

“ _You up for it?_ ” Alaska asked, still giving Trixie absolutely zero information.

A frustrated breath rushed out Trixie's nose. “I know Katya's there, just, just put her on.” There was more rustling, and Trixie hated that she was probably talking into Alaska's designer suit. Her stomach was turning. She didn’t know why; Trixie wasn’t nervous, just confused. She stood up and paced to try and clear her head. She twisted her ring around and listened until Alaska picked up the phone again. Trixie was propelling herself swiftly back and forth around her office, trying to say, “Alaska—”

“ _Katya wants you_ ,” Alaska said.

Trixie stopped. She could feel the phone moving against her face as her hand shook. _Running mate. Me._ She stared unseeing at the bachelor’s degree hung on her wall. _Katya wants me._

There was a shuffle on the other end of the line. “ _Trixie?_ ”

Trixie’s heart lurched at Katya’s voice. She couldn’t speak very loud, couldn’t hide the emotion in her voice when she asked, “What’s going on?” She tried to steady her wrist with her other hand.

The presidential confidence that Katya had held during their last phone call, when Trixie had congratulated her on winning the Democratic nomination, that elegant self-assurance was gone. Katya answered with the tender, coaxing voice of a friend: “ _Why don’t you come by the office._ ” It wasn’t really a question.

 

The sun was still setting as Trixie flew across Washington. She drove, breathing, resisting the urge to call her mom, wondering if this was all a dream. There was music playing but she wasn’t processing it. Trixie was focusing on breathing and driving and trying not to think about what was happening.

_President_ , Katya had said to her once, so quiet and so close as they’d sat with their stocking feet up on the couch. The fireplace had been crackling and they'd been drinking wine in the living room of the California Governor’s Mansion. Trixie had waited for a second, unsure what to say or if she could even talk anymore, her throat had gotten so dry with the merlot. When Katya had said _President_ , Trixie couldn't believe it and had decided it made perfect sense at the same time. She hated, to that day, that she had waited even a second to tell her friend she was going to be the best president their country had ever seen.

Trixie had gone to sleep that night in the guest room of the Governor’s Mansion, thinking about President Zamolodchikova, musing over when Katya would move back to D.C., and wondering if she should stop sleeping at the Governor’s Mansion every time she visited her home state. The next day, Katya had been off to an appearance. Trixie had had business at the Capitol and a secret about the next president. It was going to be Katya.

Tammie Brown had come up at some point, Trixie was sure, and she wracked her brain as she drove to the campaign office. Senator Brown was experienced, intelligent, and Katya loved her work on environmental protection. Trixie knew that; Katya had said that. Her mind skirted back over every time she had been in California or Katya had been in D.C., trying to remember Katya promising she wanted to run with Tammie. Meetings and appearances and parties and birthdays. Trixie quickly got lost in memories of glasses of wine by the fireplace, exasperated phone calls, then back to their days in congress together when they would bitch about their coworkers, way way back to working in California when people like Tammie Brown had been their idols.

The setting sun shone in Trixie’s eyes as she pulled into the campaign office parking lot. _Everything is about to change_ , She thought, visions dancing through her head of Katya from 5 years ago dreaming of being a governor, and Katya 5 years in the future, having just been re-elected the President of the United States.

 

Trixie was walking through the campaign office, her friend’s name plastered on every red white and blue surface, and everyone knew why she was there. She hated that all the interns and volunteers knew why she was there. She kept her head down and tugged her jacket closed over her chest as she made for Katya’s office. Interns and volunteers were whispering under the sound of her comfy heels clicking on the linoleum. Trixie wished she had changed before throwing herself out the door, the warm June evening getting to her after hours and hours in her suit.

Trixie looked up. Katya’s office was all windows, so she could see her friend sitting on the couch, turned away. Alaska was sitting on the edge of the desk, watching Trixie approach. She got up to pull open the glass door for her.

As Trixie stepped into her space, Katya looked over, smiling. It felt so good to see her smile. It felt like they hadn’t seen each other in years, though it had only been weeks in reality. Trixie ignored the confusion and the joy of seeing her friend again, and planted herself on the other side of the room. She crossed her arms. Alaska cut between them, leaning against the desk.

Trixie felt like a wax figure when they both looked at her. “What’s going on?” She asked, hands flying out to hover by her shoulders. She was staring down Katya, lasering in on the ratty dress pants Trixie had told her not to wear to work anymore, the extra button she’d undone at some point that day, the ghost of lipstick applied before the sun had risen.

Alaska and Katya shared a quick glance, before turning back to Trixie. Everything they said was communicated with Katya’s pleading eyes and hands wringing, with Alaska looking awkwardly at the ground and tightening the death grip around her giant phone.

_Everything is about to change_. “What happened to Tammie Brown?” Trixie asked her real question, right at Katya. She wanted to push the golden flyaway hairs out of her face. She wanted to fix the barrette holding it all out of her face.

Katya looked away, and Trixie wanted to choke her. She wanted to force her to talk, yet also felt terrified of what she would say. Alaska and Katya both looked like they were embarrassed for her, like they pitied Trixie, but Trixie just didn’t feel bad at all.

She just wanted to know. “Was it ever…” And the words died in her throat. With the intake of air into her lungs and the rise of Katya’s eyebrows as she finally looked at her again, Trixie realized she had been wrong. She had been so stupid. But she didn’t feel stupid, or bad, or embarrassed.

_Everything is about to change._

Katya got up off the couch, sad eyes holding Trixie’s as her body twisted and stretched in creamy cotton and ratty polyester. She raised her hands and then let them fall to her thighs. Katya asked, “Will you be my vice president?”

The whole world spun. Trixie’s stomach flipped, and she watched in slow motion as Alaska gave a nervous glance up and Katya's smiled twitched. Trixie brought her hands to clap over her nose and mouth. “ _Oh my god_ ,” She couldn’t help but say, voice dripping with emotion. _Everything is changing_.

And then Katya was chuckling, low and happy, eyes shining. Excitement and adrenaline were taking over Trixie's body. Katya shuffled across the office. Trixie lifted her arms just in time for Katya to slip into them, and then they were hugging. They were holding each other and laughing and almost crying. Alaska was mumbling, “Fucking finally.” Trixie was hugging the woman who was going to be President, and she was going to be right by her side.

 

* * *

 

By Katya’s side. Trixie was in her office, sitting next to Katya. She was on a red white and blue stage, standing next to Katya, and they were being blinded by the lights and deafened by the crowd together. Trixie listened to her being elegant and self-assured and confident. Trixie was on a tour bus, by Katya’s side. They were arguing over policies while Alaska was trying to sleep. They were waking up with dawn shining through the bus’s windows, having passed out on the couch with limbs draped across each other. By Katya’s side. Interviews, speeches, life, all by Katya’s side.

Trixie loved her best friend and she loved being her running mate. They really were running together, fighting together, working together. They also laughed and cried and whispered under the drone of the bus, harsh laptop light illuminating their tender words and tired faces. They talked about about all the stupid things they wanted to do when they got to the White House. Trixie really believed they could get there.

 

* * *

 

Trixie's soul was crushed. She could feel it crumbling inside her chest, withering into dust.

It was over. It was all over. They had lost.

Trixie offered to be with Katya when she called their opponent to concede. The woman who was not going to be president looked at Trixie for what seemed like forever, before giving the ground a sad smile and saying _no I'd like to be alone_.

The campaign office was quiet. The TV had been muted. People mingled around, gathering their things, getting ready to go home and getting used to the fact that none of them had jobs anymore. Trixie wasn't thinking about that. She was standing stock still with her legs crossed at the ankles, stilettos threatening to teeter inwards. She stared through the glass wall into Katya's office as the woman who was not going to be president made the call. God, Trixie's feet hurt. Katya looked totally fine, even smiling a bit, as she gave up her dream to some fucking Republican. _President_ , she had told Trixie. She looked like the president, still carrying her head high as she paced, even though she'd ditched her blazer and rolled up her crisp white sleeves. Trixie could see her toned, tan forearms, and the smooth bleached planes of the shirt clinging to her hips and her chest. She could see the extra special election night makeup, bright and smooth and beautiful on Katya's face.

“Too bad. I bet you wanted to hit that,” Someone said.

Trixie turned so quickly one of her shoes did teeter sideways. She caught herself, standing solid on the ground, but the intern who'd come up behind her backed up a little. “What?” Trixie said to the intern, Mandy.

Mandy glanced with uncertainty between her and Katya, making Trixie want to grab her head and hold it in one place. “You know,” She said definitively, almost asking if Trixie was fucking with her.

_Stupid fucking kids_. “No, I don't know.” Trixie was already checking out of this conversation, looking around for where she'd left her water bottle.

“It's tradition,” Mandy explained, and Trixie didn't care about superstition or tradition or anything. She cared about water and Katya and getting out of her goddamned heels. “Election night. The president _takes_ the VP.”

Before Trixie knew what was happening she was staring at Mandy with her eyebrows in her hair. Her heart was pounding, her throat was so dry. _Fuck these shoes_ . “I'm _sorry_?”

Amusement played on Mandy's face. Nothing was real anymore. They had lost the election and everyone was going crazy. Mandy was saying, “You know I worked on the Andre-Charles campaign in 2016, right?”

Trixie didn't know where she was. Her feet were separating from her body was separating from her head. Mandy had worked on a winning campaign. She knew these things, she knew that the president _takes_ the vice president. Trixie didn't know this. Trixie was losing her mind. “I…” She trailed off, stomach turning as she glanced towards the glass office. “I need a second.”

Trixie walked away, beelining for her water bottle, seeing the strong blue reflection of her skirt suit in the walls of Katya’s office. Her heels were screaming but she just stomped harder, knowing the feeling would subside to numbness soon enough if she kept it up. She grabbed her bottle and wasted no time drinking down as much as she could. Trixie watched the muted TV with the red and blue and red map. Swallowing the last gulps of water and inhaling violently, she called, “Can we turn that shit off?” She didn't wait for an answer. Trixie slammed her bottle back onto the desk and stormed over as—perfect timing, Katya exited her office. “Did you know about this?”

Katya reeled a little, hands coming close to finding Trixie's arms but not getting there. “What?”

Trixie turned and gestured behind herself but she couldn't see Mandy anywhere. She could barely see Katya, she could barely breathe with all the panic and confusion roiling inside her. “It's some tradition that the president-elect _takes_ the VP on election night,” Trixie scoffed, and then found eye contact with the woman who was not going to be president.

There it was. As Katya stared purely, deeply into Trixie's eyes, Trixie could see the pain, the regret, the horror of losing the thing they had been working towards for years. It was in Katya's eyes, inside her brain, crying out as they stood outside the office where they had just conceded. Katya's voice was quiet like they were up too late on the campaign bus again, trying not to wake the others. But there was no one else then, just them, staring, with small voices saying, “Trixie, that's why I ran.”

Trixie heard herself inhale as confusion and realization and fear and joy all exploded and flooded her body. It held for a second, and then she was breathing, awkward, ragged breaths, feeling her face twist into something ugly and confused.

“Trixie—”

“No,” Trixie managed. From her brain to her feet, she wanted to leave and never come back. They had lost the election and she was going crazy. Trixie turned around and pressed her eyes closed, battling the flames burning all her insides. She felt like she was about to cry, fire behind her eyelids, but there was no salt water to ease the heat. Trixie was stuck, frozen in confusion and pain.

A bony hand, one that Trixie had studied and held and watched, a hand that Trixie knew touched her arm and it felt like knives driving into her heart. She jerked away, one heel stepping forwards. She had to get out of there and she had to get out of those shoes but she was stuck, on fire, burning alive in front of Katya and their staff and live coverage of some fucking Republican celebrating.

They had lost the election and she was going crazy. _What am I doing?_

Trixie turned back around on her stilettos, instantly losing her balance and falling onto Katya. She didn't care, though, because Katya had grabbed her arms and Trixie had grabbed Katya's face and kissed her. She had turned around so she could kiss Katya and she had. She was kissing her. Leaning on Katya, fully supported by her hands holding her up, Trixie wrapped her arms in slow motion around Katya's neck as she pressed her tongue into her mouth. Katya whimpered, sliding her mouth around Trixie's. Trixie tilted her head to kiss her deeper, but suddenly felt Katya stumble backwards a step. Trixie got her own two feet underneath herself in a second and leaned back. She didn't let go of Katya's face. She touched her, walking up to her, unable to hide her smile as they closed into one another and pressed their foreheads together. The office was quiet. Eyes shut again, Trixie listened and felt them breathing on each other.

“ _We lost_ ,” Trixie whispered.

The sound of Katya swallowing and exhaling deeply reached Trixie's ears. “It’s okay,” Katya said, voice so gravelly and private for her. She was trying to convince Trixie. Katya had conceded, and now Trixie had to.

Trixie felt the adrenaline seep out of her heart slowly, leaving behind a happy light inside her chest. Her brain wore a soft, warm haze. There was so much Trixie had to concede to. She breathed in and then out, and then said, “I know.”

 

Trixie pushed Katya against the inside of her front door and kissed her. She kicked her heels backwards, bringing her body in as she got closer to Katya’s level, trying not to wince when the tender spots on her feet touched the ground. Trixie’s hands roamed over her chest and shoulders as she slotted her mouth on Katya’s. They were done caring about who they were seen with and where; they had driven straight to Trixie’s place across town. They had lost. They were free.

When Trixie checked, Katya’s hands were hovering awkwardly next to her sides, so she grabbed them and stuck them to her suit as she pressed her body onto Katya. Trixie kissed her, tasting her stress cigarettes and the spearmint gum from trying to mask them. She felt her stupidly nice shirt and pushed at her long dry hair.

Katya took her time but was finding her confidence again. She palmed at Trixie’s ass, pushing her hips into her. Her lips pulsed roughly against Trixie’s messy kiss.

Trixie’s stomach flashed with heat as Katya surrounded her on all sides, arms and legs and chests. She gripped her neck and whined once, a needy sound making it out of her throat. Katya’s hands flexed against her back and Trixie crumpled closer to her. Katya got her mouth free to ask, voice deep and private for her, “What do you want?”

Trixie stared into her endless dark eyes. “Take me,” She said, “Madame President.”

Katya paused, eyes sliding shut for a second. Her head hit against the door. “Trixie, I think—”

“Don’t think,” Trixie asked, pulling at her neck and ghosting her lips across Katya’s cheek as she moved to whisper in her ear: “Just for tonight.” She tickled the underside of Katya’s jaw, pressing a soft kiss to her cheekbone, and then Katya was grabbing at her again. Each part of her came to life one by one, hands moving, then her head, her hips, her body standing up tall. Katya let Trixie kiss and tease her face for a second.

All of a sudden, Trixie’s hand were being grabbed by Katya. Trixie looked up and Katya pushed her backwards. Stocking feet knocked against Katya’s heels as they moved to the side, until Trixie hit the wall and Katya pinned her wrists above her head. Trixie gasped a little, watching Katya step up to her with determined eyes. Katya’s hot lips found her neck, and Trixie was whimpering. Her pussy was throbbing. Her body was wracked with heat. She pulled instinctively against Katya’s hands around her wrists, getting nowhere. Trixie squirmed, and Katya just rolled her hips onto her, holding her in place.

“ _Katya_ ,” Trixie whined, totally at home between Katya and the wall, but feeling the ache between her legs getting to her.

Katya mumbled against her throat, “Say it again.”

“Madame President,” Trixie said.

 

Trixie was on fire, crouching on the ground in just her bra, as Katya rutted quickly against her face. She was moaning, “Trixie, _ah_ ,” with her hand in Trixie’s hair, holding her head against the wall. Trixie just tried to keep her face and tongue still with Katya’s pussy pushing on it, and keep her hips still with all the warmth swirling in her stomach. She clenched her hands around Katya’s legs when the sweet wetness making it into Trixie’s mouth really started to go everywhere.

“ _Ah_ , Trixie, fuck,” Katya said. Trixie could feel her thrusting almost uncontrollably. She hummed, gripping her legs, and pressing her tongue up into Katya. A dull _thud_ sounded and Trixie could feel her free hand had hit the wall. Katya’s pussy contracting around her tongue, fingers pulling at her curls, Trixie was throbbing as Katya came. She slid her hands up and down over her bare thighs, and Katya’s body started to slow down. Trixie relaxed her mouth. She swallowed, and lapped gently at the swollen pink skin until Katya let go of her head.

“Trixie,” Katya said again, falling back against the edge of the bed.

Trixie found her eyes, tired and blown all the way out. She dragged her arm over her mouth. She climbed up to her, and Katya shifted quickly, pushing Trixie over until she was laying under Katya on the duvet. Trixie’s chest and pussy were aching. Her voice was quiet and squeaky, saying, “Please, Madame President.”

Katya rushed down to kiss her. Trixie went at her tongue hungrily, pulling at her sides. Katya’s face pushed closer and closer, and she clawed at Trixie’s bra. When Trixie’s legs start to shift around on the slick duvet, Katya broke the kiss to mutter, “Move back, move back.”

Trixie pushed herself backwards until she wasn’t hanging off the bed anymore, watching Katya crawl up to meet her, determination and fire in her eyes. Katya kissed her and nudged her thighs apart with one knee. As Trixie wrapped her arms around Katya’s head to fully integrate their mouths, Katya knelt with one leg in between Trixie’s and reached a hand down to palm at her pussy. Trixie thrusted up, whining onto Katya’s tongue. She felt fingertips poke between her slick lips, and Trixie groaned, trying to keep her body somewhat still but struggling through the hot desire dominating all her nerves. Katya’s fingers dragged vaguely up her pussy, just nudging her clit. Trixie’s arms tensed and she nibbled Katya’s lip.

When two fingertips found her entrance, Trixie pressed her head back into the bed, letting a moan make it out of her throat. Nothing compared to the hot thrill of Katya pressing all the way into her. Trixie’s eyes were squeezing and her hips were pushing just a little bit up to Katya’s hand. Katya started to push in and out, shallow and slow. It felt wet and easy but so full. Trixie whimpered and sucked on Katya’s tongue.

Katya didn’t waste too much time fucking her before getting her thumb up to Trixie’s clit. Somehow her hand was pressing and pushing perfectly, Trixie couldn’t feel anything but overwhelming pleasure and heat. Her face was twisting up, and Katya lifted up to break their mouths apart. Trixie looked. Katya was staring down at her, and their bodies were moving together, fingers fucking Trixie harder and harder. Trixie exhaled, and then breathed, “Madame President.” And Katya was hitting her just there, rubbing her just right, she had to close her eyes. But she was thinking she wouldn’t mind if Katya just watched her moan and try not to cry. That was it, Katya was sending her, she was going to fuck her all the way there and over the side.

Trixie whined _ah_ and Katya muttered, “ _Yeah_.” Everything was fast and sweaty and hot. And then Trixie’s breath caught in the throat, body flushing with silvery tingles all over, waves of pleasure rolling out from her pussy. She was frozen, empty-headed. Trixie was suspended in an abyss of softness and warmth, tethered only by the fingers still pushing into her.

The last of her orgasm rushed out of her in one big exhale. Trixie’s arms unfurled uselessly as Katya steadily extracted her hand. Trixie opened her eyes again to watch Katya fall off to the side, lying on the bed next to her. Trixie tried to control the heaving of her chest, wondering what she was supposed to say next to the woman who was not going to be president.

 

They were both exhausted but their bodies didn’t want to sleep. Splashed with water and rubbed with towels, they put on Trixie’s silk robes and brought mugs of tea into the living room. Her apartment didn’t have a fireplace.

Trixie quickly remembered that this was not just the woman who was not going to be president. Katya was her friend, her coworker, and her running mate. They had planned and executed that entire campaign together, and they had actually thought about not winning before, just in case. They knew what would happen next. They talked about that.

It was idle, raspy chatter about Alaska and appearances and very very short term things. Around 1:30am, Katya started to cry, and Trixie held her and rubbed her back and cried a little bit with her. Katya mumbled about having lost and the things she’d wanted to do, real things, and Trixie had to answer her saying _I know it’s okay I know_. Everything was frustration and tears for a long time. But with their tired arms locked around each other, a matching pair of warm bodies and kindred spirits to share in the crushing disappointment, Trixie couldn’t imagine a better way to lose.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
